


A Long Night's Ride

by ohmyvalar



Category: Original Work
Genre: Crying, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 12:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19667491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyvalar/pseuds/ohmyvalar
Summary: Late at night, a girl finds herself in the wrong taxi and gets into a different kind of ride than she expected...





	A Long Night's Ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucymonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/gifts).



"Yes, yes, I'm on my way back. No, you really don't have to come over, Reginald! Come on, I'm turning nineteen this year already! When will you stop babying me around?" 

Through the rear mirror, Dixon stared at the girl in his backseat as she fumbled for the seatbelt with one hand. With the other she held her phone close to her ear, shouting reassurances to whoever was on the other end of the conversation. 

"I know it's your job, Reginald. But -" The girl paused to secure her buckle. The mechanism locked with an audible click. "Alright, look: I'm in the taxi already. - What? … Fine, I'll send it to you…"

Pink lipstick, check. Big, babydoll eyes, check. Smooth, silky hair - a little ruffled by the midnight wind, sure: but that only perked his urge to mess it up even more. Dixon's fingers tapped distractedly against the steering wheel as his thoughts wandered wayward. Pretty cute. Loud, too. Drunk, maybe? But that voice ain't half bad either… 

Night shifts were exhausting work. First your body protested; your legs began to cramp up, then your back too. And then your mind too betrayed you - your imagination wilted away after one too many fruitless fantasies of being a superhero type small-town vigilante. 

When your imagination died down, inspiration was the only thing that could revive its flame. And so Dixon had long since given up on reining in inappropriate thoughts about his passengers. Especially one as cute as this one… No, she'd be tiding him through many a lonely night yet. 

She don't seem the type to be looking for round two, but… "Where you headed, missus?" 

"- What? Home, of course! Where else would I be going at this time of the night?" His passenger replied, in a tone that suggested he was an idiot for asking a question like that. 

Dixon's eyes flickered over to the digital clock he kept on his dashboard. 03:00. He hadn't really been keeping track; on night shifts the twilight hours blurred together until dawn's awakening light broke. 

"Well, your address please, missus."

The girl swiped slowly through her phone for a full minute before telling him an address. Dixon made an attempt to key it into his GPS, before lying: "Sorry, didn't quite catch that, missus. You mind typing it in for me here?" 

His passenger emitted a high-pitched, disbelieving scoff before leaning over into the space between the seats. 

"Here… Herring Avenue, Goldsgate Estate. What's so difficult about that?" 

Dixon barely registered her words. Up this close, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. More importantly, he could see down the front of her dress at this new angle. 

The champagne-colored spaghetti-strap dress the girl wore glinted diamond-bright when the driver's light reflected off of it. It wasn't low-cut by Dixon's standards - although his database came primarily from groups of loud drunk girls heading to their next destination to slut it up. Still, it was more than enough for him to catch a glimpse of the curve of soft, supple flesh beneath. 

Dixon swallowed. It' d been a long time since he last… How he longed to reach out and just grab - 

"... That's it. What're you waiting for? Drive!" The girl's high voice broke through his daze. 

Dixon risked a look at her face. His passenger's finely drawn eyebrows were frowning, but her eyes were empty of the reproach that could be expected from sneaking a peek down her dress.

"'Course, missus. We'll be on our way now."

Huh. Speaking of which, this was his first time driving a loud drunk girl alone. 

As he began to drive, he glanced around at the dark, quiet streets. He was a taxi driver; he knew this neighborhood well enough. What could stop him from taking a detour into a safer area, and then… Taking what he wanted from his passenger? Once the thought embedded itself into his mind, it wouldn't leave. 

Sweat beginning to collect under his palm, Dixon glanced up at the mirror. 

The girl had slumped back into her seat. She appeared to be nodding off to sleep; her chin was tucked into her chest and bobbed over every curb. 

Just do it. What are you waiting for, you fool?! You picked her up on the streets, there'd be no way for anyone to connect her to you! And with her drunk and on the phone, what are the odds she'll remember the carplate number? This is the chance of a century!

Dixon bit down on his bottom lip hard as he continued on the GPS-approved route to the destination. 

But she could have. And then it'd take no time at all for her to call the cops, and for the cops to track me down… 

The car turned a corner, fast enough in Dixon's agitation to jerk his passenger in her seat. 

The girl moaned in her sleep. The driver tensed, waiting for her to wake up. 

But she didn't. Then, as Dixon's mouth dropped open in surprise, she uncrossed her legs to reveal what lay in between. 

It was only for a split second, but the driver caught it because he'd been anxiously anticipating her awakening. If he'd been looking anywhere else but at her, he'd have missed the sight. 

And what a sight it had been! No, it wasn't even just a tantalizing glimpse of smooth thighs bracketing a pocket of white, or whatever outrageous colors sluts tended to flash; it was much, much better than that. 

For in that one amazing, stolen moment, Dixon had seen that his passenger wasn't wearing any panties at all. 

And so all had been bared to his hungry eyes; a wisp of hair the same shade as that on her pretty little head, the shy pink of her opening, and the delicate secrets it both teased and concealed. 

Immediately the word reverberated in his mind, loud and indignant: Whore! 

For there was no doubt in Dixon's inflamed mind that a girl drunk, out at this indecent hour alone and getting into his taxi was anything but a slut willing to spread her legs for anyone who looked at her twice. 

And to think I almost thought she was a decent girl… To think I almost passed up on the chance to give her what she deserved! 

Fuelled by a self-righteous anger, he switched the GPS off and abruptly steered off the main road. 

There was a parking lot not far from here which he knew to be deserted on most days and utterly empty at night. Now he headed for it with increasing trepidation; they would not be interrupted there. 

On the way Dixon checked in the mirror at intervals. But his passenger remained soundly asleep, only opening her mouth to emit soft dreamy cries. Good, thought Dixon. Soon her mouth would be satisfied with something else entirely. 

As they passed the sign for the parking lot, his heart began to pound at double pace. If there was even the slightest sign of activity in the lot… He would have to turn back onto the main road. It would be a painful shame, but it wasn't worth risking arrest and doing time again for a damned slut. 

The car pulled into the parking lot. There was no one to be seen. The lone street lamp, long since out of commission and having remained unmaintained since, was the only witness in sight. 

"Fuck yeah," Dixon muttered to himself. Now that they were safe and secure, he no longer bothered to keep his careful silence. 

The sound, combined with their sudden stationary state, seemed to wake the girl up. Rubbing her dazed eyes, she sat up straight in the seat. 

"Where… Are we here already…?" She murmured, glancing about herself. Having positioned himself to stare directly into her face, Dixon was rewarded with her expression of dawning horror as she realized that something was wrong. 

"Wh-what are you doing? This place… Th-this isn't anywhere near my house!" A delicious cocktail of emotions played across her fine features as she spoke in a rush. "I… I'll only forgive this if you take me back instantly, at double time!" 

Dixon let his words drawl out slowly, menacingly. "But missus, we won't be going back to your house yet. Not anytime soon."

His passenger's lips trembled. Her voice was shaking with delectable fear as she asked, "What… What in the world do you mean?" 

Dixon smiled wide. It wasn't one made to be pleasant. "Well, not until I'm done with you, missus!"

His voice raised to a shout as the girl screamed before he could finish, pulling desperately at the car door. 

It was futile, of course. The driver had activated the child lock mechanism as soon as he decided to execute his plan. 

"'S no use, missus. Now be a good girl and stay there while I come over."

The girl continued to scream, shaking her head vigorously as Dixon began to climb over to the backseat. "No, no!" In her panic she had forgotten to even unbuckle her seatbelt first. Now she released the lock with a click. 

But there was nowhere to hide in the narrow expanse of the backseat. With both Dixon and her there, there was barely any space left to put between them.

"Good to see that you're being cooperative," he told her - before leaning in for her trembling lips. 

"Noooo -!" 

If the girl had had any doubts about her driver's intentions up till now, any hopes were thoroughly dashed now. There was no mistaking the aggressive way his rough mouth ground against her own soft, shaking lips, insistently forcing entry; it was nothing like her daddy's paternal kisses on the cheek. 

This was something else entirely. There was no love in this man's actions, only - 

Just as the driver's ruthless tongue prised her lips apart and thrust within, she felt it: the thick, warm, hard length of his lust against her. 

The girl shrieked and ducked away with renewed strength, accidentally biting her assailant's tongue in the process. 

Dixon cursed and withdrew for the moment. He tasted blood in his mouth. "You're going to pay for that, girl!" 

With that, he dove across the seats, grabbing ahold of her bare shoulders. Her skin was smooth and glistening with a sheer layer of sweat, but he didn't pause to admire it. His goal lay further beyond.

The girl struggled as he pulled her straps down to her elbows. But there was no way she could out-maneuver her in these close quarters. 

The dress fell to reveal an intricately laced white brassiere and a necklace. Both looked expensive, and Dixon couldn't resist taking a closer look. The necklace was attached to a pendant inscribed with the name Cherry. 

"'Cherry'?" Dixon read aloud. "That your real name? Some kinda nickname your sugar daddy gave you? Can't imagine anyone in this day and age naming their kid Cherry."

The girl - Cherry, he supposed - said nothing. For once she was stifling her cries, instead staring defiantly at him with her arms covering her chest. "If it's money you want - I'll give you anything but that."

Dixon laughed. Did this girl really not understand what it was he wanted from her? "Don't worry, doll. I'm not here as a thief. At least, not tonight."

Now it was time to move on to the next item for inspection. 

He moved his hands to tear hers away from her chest, and her cries resumed in volume. "No - stop. Stop!" 

Dixon stroked her supple breasts through the lacy cloth. They were far from any porn star's standard size, but still formed a satisfying fullness in his hands. A smile curved his lips as she twitched when he brushed her nipples through the fabric. 

"You felt that, didn't you? Stop fighting me…" He punctuated the word with a hard twist that elicited a sharp cry, before continuing, "And I could make this good for you too."

Cherry dislodged his pinching, though at the cost of sending another wave of shuddering sensation through her body. "I'll never submit to your vile intentions, you -!" 

Dixon's smile turned menacing. "Well, don't say that I didn't treat you like a lady, doll… If you want to do this the hard way, I'll be glad to have all the fun!"

With a rough tug, he ripped the fabric of her brassiere. The torn threads fell aside, revealing the twin treasures within. 

Cherry shuddered with a dizzying mixture of fear and revulsion as the driver stared soundlessly down at her exposed breasts. As if that alone was not horrifying enough, she felt the beginnings of a hangover thudding in her head. 

There was a hunger in his gaze that scared her, almost more so than the situation she was trapped in. She had been in more hopeless and terrifying circumstances before - and survived them - but never once had she been the target of such ravenous eyes. 

How - how could she survive this situation? How could she delay him until help arrived - Unless - 

Her eyes flew shut tightly as the man bent his mouth to her breasts. 

His tongue licked between them, around them, and finally flicked across her nipples. Involuntarily, she jerked up in response. 

"They're hard as pebbles now, doll. Still pretending that you don't want this?" 

A simple biological reaction. It means nothing, it has nothing to do with what I want. She recited to herself. 

The man's hot breath ghosted over her nipple, and then - the resulting suction around the tender spot was electrifying enough to shock her out of her silent endurance.

The tortured moan that rang out in the humid, claustrophobic air of the car escaped her throat before she could stop it. The driver laughed once again, and began licking and sucking a line down her stomach. And all of that she might have endured, if not for - 

If not for the feeling of the man's hand reaching down between her thighs. 

"No!" 

She had promised herself to be silent throughout this ordeal in order to rob her assailant of the satisfaction of hearing her plead. But this - Anything else she might have suffered in silence, but not in that one secret place. 

For that was where a man might… Where a man might plant his seed and grow an heir within! 

And that could not be allowed. 

Forsaking her restraint, Cherry wrapped her hand around the man's questing arm in a desperate attempt to stop him. 

"No… Please, just not there…!" She pleaded, knowing from the lust in her assailant's eyes that he would not stop until he was sated somehow. 

Dixon looked at the now-pleading girl with interest. Scarce moments ago, she had remained resolutely speechless even as he wringed delicious sounds out of her body. 

He had been satisfied enough to violate her futily resisting body, but now… This was a new game. He held all the power here tonight; but maybe this girl was still naive enough to believe she could make some sort of binding deal with him. 

"Oh? And what do you have to offer instead?" 

"I…" He watched as Cherry swallowed, evidently in emotional turmoil over her decision. "You may use my mouth instead."

"'May'?" Dixon echoed. Laughter threatened to boil out of him. "Looks like you haven't grasped the situation here yet, doll…" 

The thought of destroying her pathetic plan was enticing all on its own - but then an even better idea popped into his mind. 

He could entertain her pleas all he wanted… But whether the deal was actually fulfilled was still entirely up to him in the end. 

"Well… I could let you decide how the rest of this goes. But where're your magic words, doll?" 

He watched with pleasure as the girl squirmed, her pride clearly fighting a losing battle against her desire to protect her chastity. 

Chastity? Was she even still a virgin, a slut like her who went around without her panties on? No matter - he would find out by the end of all this.

Finally, those pretty pink lips parted quiveringly. "Please… Please let me use my mouth instead."

Dixon shook his head in mock disappointment. "Nah, nah, doll. That how you ask your daddy nicely for gifts? You gotta put more sincerity into it, huh?" 

A flash of anger appeared on the girl's pretty face when he used the word "daddy". Dixon's cock twitched in his rapidly restraining pants. But then she lowered her eyes and said, subdued, "I don't know what to do. Please…" 

"How about this for starters: 'Please let me suck your big juicy dick, sir.'"

Cherry's body shuddered - either in fear or in anger, or better, both - as she repeated, "Please… Please let me suck your big, juicy - d - dick, sir."

"Good girl. Now, 'I want to feel it deep inside me, sir. I want to taste your thick milk down my throat, sir.'"

"I… I want to feel it… deep inside me, sir. I want to taste your… thick… milk… down my throat… Sir." With every word Cherry sank lower, but he could've sworn he heard thinly veiled disdain at his choice of metaphor. 

"Huh. Those wouldn't make the cut for even third-rate porno dialogue delivery…" Dixon didn't have to fake the grin that spread across his face as he replied, "... But who am I to refuse such a pretty face?" 

And an even prettier mouth, he thought as he pushed the girl's pretty head down. 

Face to face with her assailant's crotch, Cherry could see the outline of his… instrument with crystal clear clarity. Every fibre of her being was repulsed by its potent, masculine heat and musk - evident even through the layers of clothing - but there was no other choice. It was either this, or… The unthinkable humiliation of possibly bearing this vile man's child. 

With trembling fingers she reached for the top of his zipper, instinctively attempting to avoid contact with his straining length. 

But a rough hand batted her away. "Ah, ah -" The driver chastised. Although his tone was light, the look in his eyes bode no patience for disobedience. "Use your mouth." He clicked his teeth, pointedly. 

How -? Cherry thought indignantly. But then she abruptly understood, and the further degradation of the act she was about to commit flushed her cheeks once more. 

Delicately parting her lips so that her teeth alone would be touching the zipper, Cherry bent to the task. 

At this distance - or rather, the lack thereof - she could sense the heat of her assailant's arousal. The driver smelled strongly of sweat and an underlying, undeniably masculine musk. Involuntarily, she felt her cheeks redden even further. 

With the zipper pulled down, the man's released length sprang up against her cheek, fully erect. Cherry closed her eyes and tried not to let her reaction show at being in such close proximity to his throbbing lust, even through the thin layer of underwear the man still wore. 

"Now the boxers. With your teeth." The merciless man ordered above her. She could hear the growing excitement in his voice, and it angered her even as it made her afraid of what further humiliation he would gladly force her to submit to. 

With her eyes still closed, Cherry hooked her teeth over the thin waistband of his boxers, trying and failing to ignore the way his private parts kept nuzzling against her face in the most unwanted intimate way. 

Dixon watched as the girl suffered in silence. Her pretense at martyric indifference was not so good that he could not see how she flinched with every move. 

"Good girl," he growled once she was done. "Now it's time for your reward!" 

Without further warning, he grabbed the unprepared girl by her lustrous hair and shoved her down onto his cock. 

The way her eyes widened as the sizeable length kept tunneling into her mouth and the resulting panicked whine rising in the back of her throat was more than enough for Dixon to shoot his load down her tight throat. 

And that was without the hot, unwitting suction of the inside of her mouth, and the sight of her stretched pink lips almost kissing his balls as he bottomed out without giving her time to accommodate the sudden intrusion. 

And, finally, above it all: the fact that he, a normal night driver, was acting upon his urges to put a pretty drunk slut in her place, just as he should've done so many times before… 

It all felt incredible.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" He muttered in exhilaration. 

He would have to be careful if he wanted to draw himself out for a worthier place to spend in. 

Pulling the girl back off his cock by the hair, he panted down at her, "This is what you begged for, isn't it?! So swallow your reward all up!" 

Cherry felt as if the back of her throat had been scraped raw with sandpaper. Only it was worse; the jaw-breaking girth and overwhelming musk of the thing made what was inside her mouth unmistakable.

The flow of sticky liquid leaking out was already a feat to swallow amidst the ruthless thrusting. If this was how much his precum already came up to, would she really be able to swallow his release whole? Or could she get away with spitting it out onto his own backseat? 

She screamed in desperation as her assailant pulled almost all the way out of her mouth, finally allowing her a chance to speak: "Please, you're too big, umpfh, UMPFH!" 

Her words were choked off as the driver began moving again, this time setting a punishing rhythm in-and-out. With every thrust she was forced to envelop his entire length, up to the point where his heavy balls slapped against her chin. 

The tears that had been welling up throughout the entire encounter finally overwhelmed her, streaming down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. 

It was all she could do to keep her teeth out of the way and endure the driver's unrelenting assault, for she knew worse punishments would await her if she injured him with them. 

And even silent endurement was taken from her. Every thrust forced a reflexive moan of pain from her, and even the knowledge that they would only heighten her assailant's sadistic pleasure could not stem her body's natural response.

She couldn't breath - she couldn't breath - What was the point in this if she would die from it before she ever got here? - Had she made a humiliating bargain that no doubt would be construed as insinuating her complicity for no payoff at all?

In the daze of heat and oxygen deprivation, she felt a hand reach further down to grope at her exposed breasts. And despite herself, the combination of stimulation - the electrifying shock of her nipples being carelessly pinched and the overwhelmingly dominating masculine musk in her mouth - began to ignite a fire in her core. 

No… I don't want this in any way at all, why is this…!? 

In vain, Cherry squirmed away from her assailant's touch. But the driver only seemed to derive further pleasure from her futile struggling, his length growing impossibly harder in her mouth. 

Or could it be… Can he somehow sense what's happening to my body? Heavens, no -! 

Cherry moaned in desperation, no longer quite knowing what sort of deliverance from this hell she wanted first. 

Dixon loomed over his suffering victim in satisfaction, his thrusts slowing into rocking motions which forced the girl to spasm around his cock for seconds on end before ruthlessly ripping out of her throat without warning again. 

He was close, and he wanted to claim his final prize before he spent himself. Besides, if he wasn't mistaken, there had been a change in tune to the girl's moaning just now… He was almost sure that she was… 

Without warning, he pulled the girl off by the hair one last time. Listening to her exhausted sighs and moans, he reached down and shove her unguarded legs apart. 

"Wait - What are you -" Cherry was gasping above him, realising what was about to happen. But it was too late. In one rough motion Dixon pulled her dress up to her waist and forced her legs up over his shoulders. 

There, wide open, was a woman's most secret parts - and Cherry's were entirely exposed to his eyes. 

Dixon let out a ravenous laugh, licking his lips. He knew this had been the right thing to do. That tight, quivering hole, a pretty pink just like her namesake… He couldn't wait to sink right into that fleshy channel and rip the last of the girl's innocence from her pleading grasp. 

Above him, Cherry's voice had turned panicked once more: "Wait, no, no, you promised!" 

"'Promised'?" Dixon raised his voice to a volume that threatened violence. As expected, the girl shivered in his hold, seeming to curl into herself, away from him against the backseat. But there was nowhere to run. She had to have learnt that by now. 

"That was before I knew you were such a fucking slut, running around in the middle of the night without any panties on." He lied. "What kind of good girl does that?" 

"But you aren't a good girl now, are you? No, I bet you knew exactly what would happen when you got into my car, alone and drunk, huh? Fucking taunting me with flashes in the rear mirror, weren't you? Did you think I would be too much of a pussy to take what I wanted from you?"

He was panting by now, both from how worked up the rant was getting him and the way the dawning horror in the girl's eyes was making his throbbing cock swell painfully. 

So she hadn't done it on purpose, after all? Was it some harlot girlfriend's idea of a prank, or the first move by a predating fellow drunk? 

Whoever it was… I gotta thank you for delivering her right into my arms!

"Well, serves you right for letting your guard down. Now I'm going to fuck your pussy raw."

Dixon stuck two fingers straight into her hole right away. They went in with even less resistance than he'd expected. Cherry's protesting screams faded into strangled groans as he hooked his fingers in her tight, hot channel. 

For a moment they stayed like that, her lying plaint and open on her back across the backseat, and him working his fingers within her on his knees between her legs. 

Soft cries, indistinguishable in pain or pleasure, emitted from Cherry and shuddered through her body. She was covering her face with shaking arms, but she couldn't hide her body's true reaction from him down in her core. Not anymore. 

"... You've become so wet." Dixon muttered, slowly twisting his fingers out of her hole. He scissored them apart slowly, holding them above her face as the residual stickiness reluctantly parted into glistening threads. "You've been enjoying this all along haven't you, you fucking slut?!" 

With those words he shoved his fingers into her unsuspecting mouth, still shaped in an ineffectual cry. 

Her teeth bit down on him in panic, but the pain only heightened Dixon's exhilaration at her despair. His fingers roamed the inside of her mouth, sliding against her tongue and forcing her to lick the proof of her own arousal. 

"Unn, unn!" Cherry was still shaking her head, trying to spit him out. But Dixon held her still by her jaw. 

"I know a whore when I see one. Unwilling you might have been at first - but I don't think you have any more right to object if you're not paid after all this…" 

He was about to line his impatient cock up to her squirming hole when he heard the loud vroom of a motorcycle approaching. 

Waiting with bated breath, he stared cautiously out through the window opposite him. Cherry, overwhelmed by her emotions, took another moment to realize he'd stopped before screaming out loud for help. 

"SHH -" The threat of danger fuelling his wit, Dixon clamped both hands over her mouth, sliding his fingers free. He would need them if someone was really approaching. Absentmindedly, he wiped them off on the girl's expensive-looking dress. "Shut the fuck up before I slit your throat right here and now."

He wouldn't, really - how would he get the bloodstains out and dispose of the body all by himself? - but Cherry didn't have to know that. 

Whether from fear or belief, the girl quietened down. Or maybe she was just waiting for an uninvited guest to put her screams to full use. 

No matter. He would settle this before she could draw attention to them. 

Reaching over, Dixon switched the lights and engine off. Driving away to make an escape would be difficult now, but… It would be worse if any intruder thought this was a case of suicide, and got funny ideas of playing hero. That would most definitely involve him having to get out of the car, leaving the girl free to scream for help… 

The roaring sound of an engine increased in volume.  
Finally, a flashy-looking motorcycle burst out onto the drive, and came screeching to a halt about a meter past the parking lot's entrance. 

A moment's pause. Then the rider got off the bike and came striding over into the lot. Sweat gathered in his clenched fists as Dixon prepared himself to action. 

As the rider approached the only car in the deserted lot, he saw that he was a tall but lean-looking man in stylish clothes. I can take him on if it comes to it, Dixon assured himself. But his arms were starting to tremble. 

He was distracted from his thoughts by a hitched cry of despair from Cherry. Leaning down, he saw that she was trying to pull her dress back into place and was murmuring under her breath, almost unconsciously, "No, no, not him… I can't let him see me like this…"

Dixon tensed, then relaxed. Was this intruder someone the girl knew? Or was she merely adverse to another male stranger seeing her in this state? It didn't matter - as long as it meant she wouldn't call out for help. "Keep quiet, doll, and I'll make sure he won't find you…"

The rider was definitely looking for something - unless he was an annoyingly dedicated plain-clothes policeman. He began walking up to the car. 

Dixon cursed, tossing the blanket from the front seat over Cherry and himself as soundlessly as he could. Then he turned and lay against the seat, pretending to be asleep. If he'd thought wrong, and she made the slightest movement, he'd have to… 

The rider stared at the empty front seats, then proceeded to the back. When he saw Dixon through the window, he rapped twice on the pane. 

Trying to steady his breathing, Dixon made a show of disconcerted awakening. The rider continued knocking. With hesitating, grudging movements to disguise his shaking hands, Dixon switched the engine on and rolled the window down. 

Under the dim moonlight, it was hard to pick out the rider's features. His skin was unblemished by wrinkles, so he was probably younger, but that was about all Dixon could tell. Behind his black shades - what kind of airheaded dandy wore sunglasses at night on the road? People really were strange these days - the rider had to be seeing even less, but Dixon couldn't shake the feeling of an inscrutable gaze. 

"Yeah, man?" He mustered up what he hoped was a suitably righteously frustrated grunt. 

"What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" The rider questioned. His voice was unexpectedly deep for his foppish appearance. It sent the bad kind of shivers down Dixon's back. 

"Sleeping! Can't a man get some rest after a long shift? You want a taxi, you call for one that's got it's lights on!" 

The rider tilted his head to the side. "I've got my own ride," he retorted in the same chilling voice. "You must be a very deep sleeper to not have heard me driving here."

Sweat trickled down Dixon's back. Had he played ignorance too far? 

"Yeah, yeah, man. What do you want…? I'll be getting back to sleep - unless you're a cop?" He pushed onwards, hoping he sounded aggressive instead of cowed. 

It was impossible to tell what the rider was thinking behind his tinted glasses. After a tension-filled pause, he replied, "No, I'm not." A gloved palm slammed down on the window ledge, and Dixon nearly jumped, bracing himself. 

But then the rider moved back from the window. "My apologies for interrupting you then, Mister Taxi Driver. Do get back to your precious sleep."

With that, he took one last look at the car's rear before striding back to his motorcycle. 

Dixon rolled the window safely back up as the bike's engine started up. He stared down at the motionless blanket, adrenaline ironically spiking up in his relief. Not once through the entire exchange had Cherry made the slightest move. She had let her first and last chance of escape from total ravishment slip away. 

Now the rider was leaving, but the girl didn't necessarily know that. A reckless idea took root in Dixon's mind. It was dangerous, but… The threat of danger, now that it was greatly diminished, only served to spike his arousal. Beneath the cover of the blanket, his cock twitched back to life. 

Stroking a hand over Cherry's plaint body through the fabric, Dixon muttered quietly, deadlily, "Keep quiet if you don't want our little friend to come back."

His hand spared no mercy in fondling all the curves he'd uncovered on the girl's body as the other carefully guided his now half-hard cock to her long-awaited hole.

Distracted by the effort of remaining silent and still under his lewd touch, Cherry realized his true plan too little too late. 

Dixon's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slowly pushed into her body. Even after the interruption, her hole was warm and wet. He could have slammed himself in to the hilt without any pain on his own part; but now he took a perverse pleasure at taking her innocence, inch by deliberate inch. 

Under him, Cherry's entire body was tensing and shaking in turn with effort. She was trying to keep quiet, either from screaming or - dare he say it? - unwilling pleasure. 

Dixon smiled widely. Wasn't this better? To take her slowly and leisurely, almost like a lover - until she had been violated both roughly and gently. Only then would her innocence be entirely his: long after his semen had been washed out of her hole, she would never be fucked again without remembering this encounter with him. 

Unable to resist any longer, he pushed in for the last few inches impatiently until she was fully impaled on his cock. 

"Enjoying yourself, Cherry?" He drawled out lowly. "I know you are. You can feel it, can't you? My dick, deep inside you."

"I'm going to shoot so deep inside you that it'll all go straight into your womb. Then you'll carry my babies…"

The thought was as disturbing to Dixon as it could've been to anyone else, but she didn't have to know that. It had the intended effect: Cherry shrieked under him, louder and more animated than she'd ever been. 

The motorcycle must have been long gone by now; although the blood thudding in Dixon's ears blocked almost all else out. 

Fuelled by unrestrained lust, he threw caution to the winds. Grabbing Cherry by the legs, he began thrusting into her with increasing speed and force. 

With each sobbing spasm that wracked her body, her slick channel convulsed around him involuntarily. But when Dixon spared a hand to switch the lights on, he realized that she was pressing the blanket against her face, as if shielding herself from knowledge of who the man giving her the fucking of her life was. 

And that just won't do, will it? Savage delight in his ability to hurt Cherry, mentally as well as physically, coursed through Dixon, as potent as any aphrodisiac. 

Without warning he tore the blanket off Cherry's body. 

She was wailing freely now. Tears flowed down her cheeks and onto the leather seats. As his hips kept up the punishing rhythm, Dixon leaned down. One hand clutched at a bouncing tit, while the other held her behind the head. 

"Look at me," he commanded, and twisted hard the nipple when Cherry only continued crying. "Look at me!"

She raised her head then. Dixon looked into her eyes, and instead of the hopeless anguish he'd craved, he saw diamond-like determination shining behind the sparkle of her tears. His words died on his tongue. 

"You're going to regret this." she said. There was no doubt in her voice. 

A moment passed as Dixon registered the words. His body was still keeping up the rhythm on autopilot, and hers was reacting in turn.

It was Cherry's own moan that shook him out of his daze. By pure accident, he must have hit a pleasurable spot within her body. 

A wild grin split Dixon's face. "Oh, hell, I might," he countered. "But not right now, doll!" 

As he stared into her determined eyes, he felt another inexplicable surge of arousal through him. Broken sluts were great in porn, but fighting innocents? 

Turns out they were even better. 

Fingers digging hard enough into Cherry's hips to leave bruises, Dixon howled and came. 

His vision whited out for an incalculable duration. When he came down from his high, he found Cherry bent down under the seat. She was staring blankly, soundlessly at her phone. 

Dixon snatched the device out of her hands before she could do anything else. "Don't even think about it, doll," he warned, still breathing hard from exertion. "From now on you just need to keep quiet and I'll take you back to your nearest station. You can walk back on your own after that - don't even think about calling the cops…"

He fell silent as the phone screen came to live. There were many worried incoming texts, but only the top one stole his breath. 

It simply said: "Don't worry. I'm coming."

His eyes raced to check the contact name. Reginald, it read, followed by an emoticon of a tall-hatted royal footman. 

Dixon's wave of panic receded, then bubbled out of him as a half-disbelieving laugh. He imagined an old, suit-wearing man stumbling down the steps of some archaic mansion, searching for his young charge in vain. 

That's right, you're safe. There's no way anyone can trace where you are right now - especially not some senile servant. 

Then again…

"Your location. Is it on?" He questioned. Cherry gave no reply, staring stubbornly away from him. The tear tracks had dried on her cheeks. She wasn't crying or screaming any more now. 

No matter. The deed was done; he would drive away now and leave no trace in this area. 

"Buckle up, doll," he told her, zipping up his pants and climbing back into the driver's seat. As he switched the lights back off, he heard the click of her seatbelt. 

Looking in the mirror he saw that she was staring silently in his direction. But it was too dark now for him to discern anything about her expression. 

After putting a safe distance between the car and the parking lot, he threw Cherry's phone out of the open window. At highway speed it would surely shatter upon impact. Then he would be safe from any possible location tracking. 

They drove in silence. Even the rustling sounds from the backseat - presumably from Cherry adjusting her clothing - had faded. Dixon raised his eyes to the rear mirror, feeling strangely cheated of her fear. 

She was still staring at him through the darkness without a sound. 

A shiver slid down the driver's spine. It was irrational, he knew; he still held all the power here, and Cherry was definitely not any kind of supernatural being. He'd been close enough to know for sure… 

Still, the words escaped his mouth, "Don't be scared, doll. I promised I'd let you go, safe and sound - well, unless another bunch of guys pick you up on the way home -" 

"I'm not scared. Not any more." Cherry's voice was ice cold, but burning with conviction. "But you should be."

"What are you talking about?" 

"Reginald. He's coming for me. He always does, and he always will. Now he's going to come for you too."

A choked laugh. "W-what -?!" 

Just then, the familiar sound of a motorcycle's engine roared into range. 

Dixon jumped in the driver's seat. Gaze darting up to the rear mirror, he saw that the same motorcycle from before was swiftly gaining speed on them. 

"How the fuck - That's Reginald?!" He cursed, slamming down on the accelerator pedal. "What the - I don't understand - Why didn't you call for help back then -" 

Cherry's voice floated over to him, scornful under a thin disguise of detachment. "Oh, him? That's just Sebastian. I couldn't have him see me in that state, no matter what. It would've brought shame down upon the family name, you see. No servant should see their lady in such an… improper light. Even if I wasn't the one at fault. That is why I had to endure it, no matter what. Because I knew that Reginald would come for me in the end."

There was a scorching fury threatening to break through her icy words that only added to Dixon's increasing panic. 

"What the fuck - Even if you're some kind of royalty, don't think I won't just throw you out of this moving car -" The situation was unravelling too fast, too far out of his control and even comprehension for him to think of a proper resolution to the problem. 

"You won't." Cherry interrupted coldly. "I've buckled my seatbelt, just as you said. You can't throw me out unless you stop the car to do it yourself - and then Sebastian would catch up, wouldn't he?" 

Hanging to one last thread of hope that this entire "Sebastian" thing was a sham, Dixon rolled down the window and glanced out at the thundering motorcycle. 

The wind whipped past him, but he could vaguely hear the rapidly approaching rider shouting that sounded suspiciously like: "I'm coming, Missy Cherry!!" 

"Fuck!" Dixon quickly rolled the window back down before Cherry could start communicating with her servant. Normally he'd say there was nothing she could do in this situation but to wait, but who knew what else this passenger could do?

"Have you fallen into despair already? It's too early for that." Cherry was continuing. "After all, Reginald isn't here yet."

"Fuck, what the fuck is wrong with these people…?!" The driver's voice sounded like he was on the verge of a breakdown. 

Good. Cherry thought with painful relish. For the horrors he had done to her, for the crime he might have and might still continue to perpetuate on the streets… This much was only the least of his due punishment. The least of what Reginald will do to him. No, the least of what I, too…!! 

Adrenaline was coursing through Dixon's body once more, but the sweat that poured down his neck now was chillingly cold. The rider hot in pursuit from behind was already more than he wanted to handle… Not to mention the imminent threat of this almost demonic Reginald figure… 

His frantic eyes scanned the road ahead. Nothing still… No, there! 

Out from the next exit lane came a speeding car. On the outside, it was entirely nondescript compared to the rider's - Sebastian? - roaring bike. Perhaps too nondescript, thought Dixon, as the vehicle executed a sharp turn which drew it directly perpendicular to his own taxi. Black, sleek, tinted windows… Ain't this the kinda car body disposers use to get away with scot-free crimes?! 

Gritting his teeth, Dixon swerved as far out of the obstructing car's way as the highway allowed. 

This deep into the night returning stragglers were less likely than early birds - but even the latter wouldn't be out on the road for some time yet. Who knew what this girl's servants could do if he really became trapped between them? 

That's right - I've still got Cherry. In all the panic his pursuers' appearance had caused, he had all but forgotten about his passenger. He checked in the rear mirror once more. The girl was silent and motionless, but she was there all right. Good. Worst case scenario: I'll stop the car and hold her hostage. Surely they won't do anything rash with their mistress still in my grasp… 

It seemed that that scenario was coming to fruition even as he planned for it. With his eyes back on the road he saw that Sebastian had caught up. The black car flanked him on his other side as all three vehicles throttled down the highway at high speed. 

As they approached the next exit, Dixon made a last-ditch attempt at lose his pursuers. 

But they had foreseen his intentions at once. While the rider dove in close to smash the rear window opposite Cherry, the black car raced ahead and executed a turning stop which placed it perpendicular to Dixon's vehicle.

Having effectively prevented the taxi driver's escape between them, Dixon was forced to screech to a halt. 

In the backseat, Cherry was unbuckling her seatbelt and yanking at the car door. It remained stubbornly shut under the child lock. Sebastian, the rider, having dismounted from his bike, called through the smashed window: "Don't you think it's about time to give up? After having done something so heinous to Missy… There's really no help for you. Now open up so that the end to your sorry life will be all the swifter."

Dixon glanced between the rearview mirror and the view ahead in rapid succession. The black car's door was pushed open, and a man in a black-and-white suit stepped out. He strode over with contained, confident steps. 

Just like one of those old school butlers, Dixon thought deliriously to himself. A near-hysterical laugh welled up in the back of his throat. Only seconds before he had thought to clamber back into the backseat and take Cherry hostage. But now something in the man's steady, inexorable approach made his limbs turn to lead. 

Meanwhile, Sebastian had succeeded in pulling his mistress out of the car by widening the smashed hole in the window. Cherry's slender frame managed to pass through it without catching on any sharp edges.

As soon as she was free, Cherry gave a plaintive cry and rushed over towards the suited man. That course took her directly past the driver's seat - and abruptly Dixon broke out from his daze. 

Now's the time - I have to act before she runs out of my reach! 

Wrenching the door open, Dixon rushed to grab Cherry - 

-Only to smash right into a swung fist.

W-what?

He reeled back from the impact, clutching at his throbbing nose. In front of him stood Sebastian, still hidden behind dark shades. But there was nothing inscrutable about the waves of rage emanating from his towering frame. 

"Don't you dare come any closer to our Missy ever again!" The rider thundered. Blood  
seeped out from between Dixon's cupped fingers. 

"Reginald!" Cherry's crying voice made both men turn towards its direction in unison. 

The girl had thrown her arms tightly around the suited man, burying her face in his chest. Reginald himself appeared much calmer than she was. With a hand that could cover her head under one palm, he stroked her hair. 

"It's all going to be fine, Young Mistress. You're strong; much more than you can know yet." 

"But… But Reginald, he… He left his… inside me. What if Papa finds out? I… I couldn't live with having brought shame upon our family name…!" 

Reginald's mouth tightened. "What are you saying, Young Mistress? Master isn't a man to foolishly mislay blame. Which is why he won't hold us responsible for whatever punishment we choose for this… Indescribably heinous criminal."

His words Cherry visibly relaxed against him. Quietly, so that only the two of them could hear, she whispered: "Thank you, Reginald." Then she pulled herself away, ready for her servant to act as her vessel for avengement. 

"Hey, Boss? What're we going to do with this scum of the earth?" Sebastian's deep voice echoed over the space between them, ringing loud and clear. 

"Don't worry, Sebastian. He will get his due." 

The words were simple - and they struck an even simpler terror into the taxi driver's heart. 

Dixon stumbled backwards and fell as Reginald finally stepped towards him once more. Turning, he saw Sebastian towering over him with crossed arms. 

He still couldn't see what was behind the rider's sunglasses, but the cold fury in the suited servant's every movement was unmistakable. And Dixon had been in enough sticky situations to know that it promised violence. 

"Get up." Reginald was standing directly in front of him now. The look in his eyes suggested that he was looking at something lower than dirt. 

The driver remained on the ground, baring his teeth in an almost involuntary reflexive smile. "If you want me, you can get down on my level - ARGGHHHHH!" 

His words were cut off into a soul-harrowing scream as Reginald stomped down on his knee without the slightest warning. A definitive crack rang out in the night air. 

He'd broken his kneecap, Dixon was sure. Oh god oh fuck oh god… The sudden pain shooting up his leg blurred out all else for a long moment - long enough for the servant to raise his foot and deliver a similar blow to his other leg. 

"...!"

This time the driver unconsciously curled up into an agonized ball, futilely trying to keep himself from further harm. Pained, animalistic whines resounded in his ears. It took him another long minute to realize that they were coming from his own mouth. 

"Geez, Boss… You're the real deal all right. No matter how long we've been working together, I'm always surprised by your efficiency…" Sebastian was saying. Reginald's voice replied something in return, but the driver couldn't make the words out. His head was swimming, trying and failing to cope with the pain and fear. 

Fear of what was coming next. Graphic scenarios popped into Dixon's mind. No. No no no. No matter how ruthless this Reginald had just been, they were only servants after all. They were normal employees; not some lawless gangsters with no fear of any consequences! They couldn't mean to - 

"Tie him up." That was Reginald again, his voice cold and resolute. 

"What -" Sebastian's voice suggested that it was less a moral concern than a vaguely inconvenient course of action. "He isn't running anywhere with those legs now. Not that he ever stood a chance of escape."

"With those injuries he could still crawl. Tie him up."

"... Geez, I got it, I got it. No need to get all worked up on me, Boss." The sound of footsteps retreating echoed from behind him. 

Oh god. Dixon took one glance at Cherry, still standing safely apart from the action, and perished the thought of turning to her for help. Her distance reflected cautiousness, not any modicum of pity. He would get no help from that end. 

Now he only had one man to turn to for mercy.

As Reginald bent down over him, Dixon flinched. "Wait - No no no no no! Stop! What are you thinking - You can't do this to me! Even if you're the police… I have rights!" 

"You might have thought of that before you touched Cherry." The servant's voice was ice cold. He reached into his pocket for a syringe already filled with a clear liquid. 

"No… Please…" Dixon whimpered. But the instinctive twitch to run only sent his legs into further agony. 

The pinprick of pain caused by the needle's penetration of his arm's flesh barely registered over his fog of fear. 

"Don't worry," replied Reginald. The seriousness, not sarcasm, in his voice sent chills down the driver's spine. "You won't have to think of anything else for a while. And after that…"

The servant stood up. Dixon turned away from his icy gaze and attempted to crawl away with all the strength he could still muster. 

But that strength was seeping away by the second. A heavy veil of darkness was falling over him. Even the agony of his broken knees was numbed by the lethargy that slowly gripped him. With every blink it became harder to open his eyes back up. 

As his mind began to sink into unconsciousness, three pairs of shoes came into view. By now he could barely hold himself up on his arms in his prostrate position. Leather boots, flowery flats and professional loafers. A trail of rope, the kind used to hog-tie animals at a ranch, unrolled into view beside the boots. 

Dixon reached out to the flowery flats with supplicating hands. "P-please…" His tongue was numb and heavy in his mouth.

The loafers stepped warningly on his fingers with what must have been enough force to crush bone. But Dixon could no longer feel it through the numbing haze of whatever drug the servant must have given him. 

The boots disappeared out of sight, presumably to begin the process of tying him up. But he couldn't feel that, either. 

The owner of the flats bent down, and Cherry's lovely face came into view. A flicker of hope ignited in Dixon's heart. 

But then she said, "I pleaded with you too. You knew the consequences of what you did." She rose. 

"Now you have to deal with them."

His last hope of salvation having been destroyed, Dixon finally collapsed onto the ground. The hard concrete road was the last thing he felt before darkness overwhelmed him.


End file.
